The Fight For Neverland
by LuckyNumbers
Summary: Wendy Rachel Jackson is a Junior in high school when she meets a boy of the same age named Peter Pan. She doesn't think that he is anything special, and he doesn't either, until they are taken to Neverland to help fight Hook and find the real Pan
1. Wendy Meets Peter

**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to ****Peter Pan****.**

**For the sake of this fic, Peter left Neverland (and I believe that he was forever eight) and lost his memory. This will be explained later. He is now sixteen and in high school in the US.**

All children grow up, though they may not like it.

As it was, the first day of junior year seemed like staring down the barrel of a gun to all students. It brought with it more studying for harder tests as well as the SATs.

No one hated waking up that morning more than a certain girl named Wendy Rachel Jackson.

Wendy was not your typical teenage girl. She was never invited to parties, she didn't have a boyfriend, and her favorite activity was reading in the library. She had some friends at school, but they all did different things. The only time she really was able to see them was at lunch, and they were always too busy to get together on weekends.

Because of this, Wendy woke up on that morning in September believing that the only thing that would change this year was the workload.

She had no idea how wrong this was.

Her day started in the usual way. She sat on the bus in her usual seat and listened to her iPod. She wasn't friends with many of the kids who were at the bus stop, and she definitely wasn't going to entertain the Freshmen.

She was so immersed in her own little world that she didn't notice the new boy get on at the next stop. She didn't even know that he sat down next to her because she was looking out the window the entire time.

She concentrated on the rain. She thought it was an appropriately bleak start to the year that her older friends had warned her would be like going through Hell.

And it seemed like they were all going to be right. When she got to school and went to homeroom, Wendy received her new schedule. She took one look at it and winced. Was the school board conspiring against her? It seemed as if she had gotten every teacher her friends had warned her about. Was that even possible?

Wendy groaned and reminded herself that she had gone through some really bad teachers in the past. She could deal with them, so perhaps she would be able to deal with these new teachers.

Wendy took out her notebook that had various writings in them. She had written countless poems and short stories. This wasn't her first notebook, either, as she had filled quite a few since she started writing in middle school. As she wrote more, her style became better and better. Sometimes, she would look back on her earliest writings and would cringe at how bad they were, but she kept them to remind her of how she started.

That was when the bell rang for first period, telling her that she had to start her day and her year.

Wendy was dreading the beginning of actual work by the time the day ended. All of her teachers seemed to be asking more than she had ever been asked before. With a sort of nostalgia, she remembered how she almost never had homework in Freshman year, and now it seemed like she would have no time for anything else.

She sighed as she pushed open the door of the school's library. "Happy new school year, Wendy," greeted the librarian, Mrs. Baker. The librarian knew all the teachers in school, but she knew few of the students. The only reason Mrs. Baker knew Wendy was because she was always in the library.

Wendy put her stuff down on one of the tables and went straight to the adventure section. She picked a book that seemed promising and sat back down at the table. The tale was quite thrilling, with pirates, magic, and sword fights.

She was right in the middle of a thrilling fight when she noticed that someone had sat down next to her. She looked up from her book to see someone she was definitely sure was new to the school. He then looked up as well, and an awkward silence ensued before Wendy decided to break it.

She held out her hand for him to shake. "Hi, I'm Wendy Jackson," she introduced herself.

"Peter," he said, shaking her head. "Peter Pan."

Wendy let out a small laugh. "Wow, I thought my parents were the only ones to be crazy enough to name their kid after a character from that story."

"I don't have any parents," Peter said, and Wendy immediately knew that she had said the wrong thing. She was about to apologize. He stopped her before she could, though. "It's ok, I have foster parents. I can't remember my real parents, anyway. I woke up one day when I was eight. I was in an alley, and someone brought me to the foster care center. That night, they played a movie for all the kids, and it happened to be the Disney movie. I didn't remember my real name, and everyone seemed to like the main character, so I decided that it was going to be my name, too." He then looked like he realized something. "I'm sorry, you didn't ask for my life story. It's just that you're the first person who's talked to me at this school."

"Yeah, I get that kids at this school could probably ignore a new student," Wendy said. "It may not be nice at first, but I don't mind that most people at this school ignore me. Most of them seem a bit too stuck up."

"But you have friends, don't you?" he asked,

"Of course, I have friends. They just always have a lot of schoolwork. They decided to be in all AP classes."

Peter whistled. "That sounds like a giant time-suck," he said.

"It is," Wendy agreed. "We don't get to hang out that much, so I spend all my afternoons here."

"You like reading," he said. It wasn't a question.

"And writing," she added. She pointed to her notebook. "It's full of poems and short stories. One day, I think I'll pick out my favorite ones and publish an anthology."

"You're a storyteller."

Wendy shrugged. "You could say that."

"Do you mind if I take a look?" Peter asked.

"Uh, sure," Wendy agreed. "No one has ever asked to look at it. Can you tell me what you think of them?" Peter agreed and then flipped to a random page to begin reading. Wendy went back to her book.

A few minutes later, Peter broke the silence. "Can you explain something to me?" he asked. Wendy nodded. "This story is set in World War One, but there are flying machines and other things that we don't even have yet."

Wendy instantly realized what he was talking about. "It's Steampunk," she explained.

"Come again?"

"Steampunk," she repeated. "It's the technology of the future set in the time of steam power. I went through this big Steampunk phase last year, and it culminated in that story."

Peter nodded. "Well, it's a good story," he said, and then he went back to reading.

Wendy smiled and went back to her book and smiled. She thought that this Peter guy was pretty cool. It also didn't hurt that he liked her stories.

And from then on, a routine was made. The two would meet after school in the library every day. She would read a different book, and he would read the stories she wrote. When he was done with one notebook, she would bring another. She only refused to bring her earliest notebooks, because she assured him that they were not as enjoyable.

Because of this, they became fast friends. Suddenly, Wendy had a friend who wasn't always busy, and Peter had a single friend at the school.


	2. Dance?

**Disclaimer: J.M. Barrie has been dead for a long time, so I am obviously not the creator of ****Peter Pan****. Also, if there are quotes in this story, they are from the 2003 movie with Jeremy Sumpter, but this fic doesn't completely go by that.**

**Guess what? Today, I am 17. I have to admit, I'm a bit disappointed that Peter hasn't taken me to Neverland, yet.**

"I honestly do not get anything in this book!" Peter exclaimed as he sat down next to Wendy and slammed his copy of Shakespeare's "Hamlet" on the table. "It would be so much easier if he just wrote regularly, it would be so much easier."

"Well, obviously," Wendy agreed, "but if it was easy to read, it would not be torturous enough for teachers to give to us." She smiled and Peter rolled his eyes. "What, exactly, do you not get?"

"Everything!" he nearly shouted, causing Mrs. Breaker to glare over in their general direction. Peter lowered his voice. "I have a huge test on it tomorrow, and I have no idea how I'm going pass."

"Well, I could help you," Wendy offered.

"If you think you can," he laughed, shaking his head.

So instead of reading different stories that day, Wendy tried, as best as she could, to help Peter study for his test the next day. She was glad to see that he seemed to understand it.

"How do you get all this information from a few lines?" he asked.

"I read a lot. After a while, you see certain archetypes in every story you read," she answered.

"Right," Peter said, rolling his eyes.

"It's true," Wendy defended. She lowered her voice and muttered, "It also doesn't hurt that I listen in class."

"Hey, I resent that!" Peter exclaimed. This time, it was Wendy's turn to roll her eyes.

"Anyway," she said, looking at her watch, "it's getting late. I should get going. Good luck on your test tomorrow." She got up to leave, but she turned to him one more time. "Remember to study," she told him.

"Yes, mother," he said in a mocking tone. Wendy smiled and shook her head as she exited the library.

After two days of waiting, Peter nearly ran into the library and slapped a paper down on the table. When Wendy looked at it, she saw the "Hamlet" test with a large, red "A" atop it. "Oh, the cleverness of me!" Peter laughed.

"Of course, I did nothing," Wendy mumbled, looking down at the book that wasn't really holding her interest.

"Well, you did a little," Peter admitted as he began to open one of Wendy's story notebooks.

"A little," she repeated, though it seemed more like a question. She got up and went to put the book she was reading back. She didn't know why it bothered her that Peter was acting all high and mighty about his grade. She guessed that she just wanted the credit for helping him.

"Come on, Wendy, you know I was only joking," Peter said as he went to where she was.

"Yeah, yeah."

"How about I do something to thank you?" He asked.

"Like what?" Wendy was now interested.

"The winter dance is coming up and-"

"Forget it," Wendy cut him off. "I don't dance."

"Come on, it'll be fun," Peter pleaded.

"I don't know what dances at your old school were like," she countered, "but here, they're full of horrible music and annoying people. I should know, I went to one in Freshman year. Ever since then, I told myself that I wasn't going to go to another one until Prom."

"Please?" he pressed.

"Why do you think that I am going to change my mind just because you said 'please'?"

"It was worth a shot, wasn't it?"

"Not really," Wendy answered. It was rhetorical, she knew, but she still felt like answering. "Why do you want me to go, anyway?"

"Well, you and I both know that you don't get out, much."

"Gee, thanks."

"Do you really want me to go to this dance?" Wendy asked.

"Yep."

"And you won't stop asking until you get me to go," this time it wasn't a question.

"That's correct." There was a long pause before Wendy spoke again.

"If this dance goes horribly, I'll never speak to you again," She said, matter-of-factly.

"So, you'll go?" Peter asked.

"I guess." Wendy agreed. "But I swear, if I end up hating it, you will _so _regret it."

Peter laughed. "I'm sure I will."

"You should be afraid."

"Oh, I am. Don't worry."

The days leading up to the winter dance, Wendy was beginning to regret her decision. Not only did hate the idea of going to a high school dance, but she knew that she wasn't going to be able to stand the rumors. There were going to be _way_ too many jokes about her and Peter being together. Wendy had no idea why Peter wasn't worried. Did he just not care about what people thought about him? She couldn't believe that a single teenager was that confident, no matter what they said.

Well, maybe she could count on the fact that not many people knew who Peter was.

But the fact remained that she was dressed really nice (not a dress or anything) with her hair styled, and she was even wearing _makeup_ for God's sake!

Her mother was overjoyed at the fact that her daughter was actually going out for once. As for her father, well, it took a lot of convincing him that she and Peter were only going to the dance as friends to keep him from interrogating Peter to the third degree.

After a few conditions ("don't stay out past midnight," "call us if things get to wild," "Don't drink, don't smoke, don't do anything I wouldn't do," etc.), they were finally allowed to leave.

Peter's adoptive mother was the one driving them to the dance, and she turned out to be a very nice woman. She seemed delighted to meet Peter's new best friend, and was beginning to delve into some personal details before Peter became embarrassed and nervously announced (quite loudly) that they were almost at the school.

The two friends got to the school and were about to enter the doors to the gymnasium when Wendy asked, "Do I really have to do this?"

"I can't believe you!" Peter exclaimed. "In all of your stories, there is not one climax where someone isn't getting stabbed or blown apart, and you're afraid of a _dance_?"

"Well, I'd rather face an entire crew of pirates than have to do this," Wendy mumbled. "At least with the pirates, I'd get to use a sword."

"Can you even use one?"

"I used to fence at camp, does that count?"

They both ended up laughing, but when they entered the gym, Wendy's mouth fell agape in horror. Every inch of wall and ceiling, it seemed, had been draped in blue and white streamers and snowflakes. She wasn't sure whether it could be called a "Winter Wonderland" or if Frosty the Snowman had just gotten sick and threw up all over the place.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," she said under her breath.


	3. The Second Star to the Right

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Peter Pan" blah, blah, blah.**

**OMG, am I updating? No, you must be hallucinating.**

Despite the fact that she couldn't dance if someone held a gun to her head, Wendy actually had fun at the dance. It didn't hurt that Peter had no idea how to dance, either, and she was glad about that because if he turned out to be a great dancer, she would probably take another huge hit to the ego.

Thankfully, it seemed that no one really took notice of her and Peter. She was glad that she could retain her relative anonymity, even at a dance.

The thing was that it started to get really warm in the gym. The wintry decorations was doing nothing to trick her mind into thinking that the air wasn't completely thick and stunk with the sweat of a hundred dancing teenagers.

"I need to get some air," she told Peter. He nodded and followed her outside. She was already wearing a light jacket, but she was quite surprised about how unseasonably warm it was. She went over to sit on a bench and look at the moon. Then, she noticed how easily she could see the stars. She wasn't used to that. There was too much light pollution where she lived. Normally, she cour0ld only see a few stars, but now she could see many different constellations. It was like she was camping.

"Enjoying the view?" Peter asked as he sat down next to her.

"It's like you can see into infinity. Anything could be out there."

"Maybe your next story could be about space," he suggested.

"Epic battles from the hulls of starships," she mused. "I like it." She was already planning to herself. "Let's see. How do laser cannons work?"

Peter laughed. He found it incredibly amusing when she brainstormed like that. "That's cute."

"Cute?" Wendy felt quite offended. "My stories are _not_ cute!"

Peter's ears went hot. "That n-not what I meant. I was just saying that it's cute when you plan stories and, uh, stuff like that."

"Right."

"It's true!" Peter defended. "I just figure that you have a lot of talent, and it's great that you're always looking for ways to use it, and, uh…" It was only then that Peter noticed how close they were.

Wendy smiled meekly. "I hear bells," was all she said.

Peter nodded, though he hadn't really processed what she said. He was only looking at her. For some reason, he thought she looked very pretty. Before he realized what was happening, Wendy had closed her eyes and he was leaning in, getting even closer to her.

That was when Wendy felt something hit the back of her head.

Her hand immediately flew to the spot to try and grab whatever had hit her. She was surprised when she actually caught hold of something that wasn't her hair, because if someone had thrown a small rock at her head, it would have bounced off.

Her first thought was that what she held in her hand was a diamond because of the way it sparkled. Of course, a diamond would not have stayed on the back of her head longer than a rock, and diamonds only reflected light, the light didn't just fall of their surfaces.

Also, the thing wriggled in her hand, so it was most definitely alive.

Upon closer inspection, Wendy saw that the… thing was basically a human in miniature, except for the fact that she (for the face was definitely female) had small wings on her back. She was making some strange strangled squealing noises.

A faerie.

"Stop squeezing your hand, she can't breathe," Peter urged.

Wendy opened her palm. The faerie stood up on it and started making weird, high pitched, garbled noises while stamping her foot and pointing at her. She flew up to her face and stuck her tongue out at her. She then flew over to Peter and made those noises again.

"Hey, she didn't know, give her a break," he defended.

"Wait, you can understand her?" Wendy asked.

"Yeah, can't you?"

"No." Wendy started pinching herself to make sure that she wasn't dreaming. Seeing as she didn't wake up from the pain, she could conclude that she was conscious. She also wasn't hallucinating because that would mean that she and Peter were having the same hallucination, and that was extremely unlikely. Still, there was something strange. "Why can you understand her when I can't?"

The faerie spoke again (though Wendy could hardly call it speech, but there wasn't any other way she could describe it).

It seemed that Peter was translating. "She said that she can only speak to Lost Boys," he said.

"You mean, like, in the story?"

"I guess," Peter shrugged. "But maybe it refers to any kid who has been on their own for a while. I don't know where I came from, so that's probably why I can understand her."

"Ok," Wendy said, though she wasn't completely convinced. "So, _why_ did she fly into the side of my head at full speed?"

Once again, it seemed as if the faerie was answering and Peter was translating. "She says that it wasn't her full speed, and it would be wise of you to cut out the sarcasm because not all faeries are nice as they seem."

"'Cut out the sarcasm'?" Wendy repeated. "What is she, my Faerie God-Mother?"

"She says her name's Tinkerbell," Peter said, pretending that he didn't hear her question.

"Like, in the story?"

Peter nodded. "She says that she needs our help."

"With what?" Wendy asked. She was not in the mood to help the faerie who had just caused her to have a large headache.

"She says that she doesn't have a lot of time. She'll explain when we get there."

"When we get where?"

"Neverland."

"You mean the place where children don't grow up and a _real_ Peter Pan fights pirates all the time?"

"She says that it's more complicated than that," he answered. He didn't like being the "not real" Peter Pan. Well, he wasn't _that_ Peter Pan, but still…

Wendy, on the other hand didn't know how she felt about it. Perhaps when Tinkerbell hit the side of her head, it unhinged her a bit, but she thought that this was a good idea. A real adventure! Of course, she could be going crazy, but at least it would _seem_ real.

"I'm in." She said. She stood up from the bench.

"All right," Peter stood as well.

Wendy couldn't tell, but it seemed that Tinkerbell was happy with their answers.

She was glad that there was no one else around. Everyone was still inside at the dance, and they weren't anywhere near the parking lot. It was a relief, because she didn't know what people would make of the sight of a faerie raining pixie dust on them while they rose in the air.

Tinkerbell flew on ahead, but Wendy already knew where they were going.

Second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning.


	4. Slightly Annoyed

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Peter Pan" and stuff, though I do own Wendy Rachel Jackson. Did I not say that before?**

To Wendy, there was no better sensation than flying. There was absolutely no way to describe how she felt during the flight led by the small, twinkling light ahead of them that was Tinkerbelle.

Though she had been taught that human flight with no visible means of propulsion was absolutely against logic and physics, it seemed to her now that the thought that one couldn't fly was positively laughable. Surely, she thought, this was the only way to travel.

A quick glance in Peter's direction told her that he was thinking the same thing. Neither of them cared that it seemed like they were flying in space and they shouldn't be able to breathe.

It wasn't long before Wendy noticed that they were flying over water. In the distance, she saw a lightening sky over a dark landmass. The sun that would have been there was obscured by clouds that seemed to be pouring down snow. This dismayed Wendy. In the stories, Neverland was supposed to be a place with perpetual summer, so why was it snowing?

She didn't voice her concerns, however, but it was a bit strange.

Slowly, she could see Tinkerbelle descending, and she did the same. The land was getting closer and closer. It was only minutes before she realized that they were headed towards a large, circular encampment with a fire going in the middle. It was a few more minutes before they touched down in the middle of said encampment.

It seemed like everyone there was still sleeping, but Tinkerbelle led them toward one tent that was smaller and farther away than the rest. Wendy and Peter walked behind her, as the pixie dust seemed to have worn off.

They made their way slowly, only looking ahead, which was a shame, because if either of them had looked back, they would have seen that while Wendy's footprints were merely impressions in the snow, there were small patches of green grass where Peter had stepped.

Tinkerbelle had arrived in the tent before the two of them. Though it was not a long time between when she entered and when Wendy and Peter got there, it seemed to be enough time for the pixie to warn the tent's only resident of their arrival.

Wendy wasn't sure what she was expecting to see upon entering the tent, but what she saw was a boy who looked to be about one or two years younger than she was, and he did not look happy.

As it was, it seemed that Wendy and Peter had entered in the middle of a shouting match between the boy and pixie.

"I don't care if you think it will fool him!" the boy shouted. "If it's not the real one, then he'll know! We're not any better off than when we've started." It was then that the boy seemed to notice the two of them. He looked at Wendy, and as if he was just now remembering his manners, said, "Oh, begging your pardon, miss, but I only just saw you now."

"It's fine," Wendy said. She didn't realize that the shouting match was apparently offensive to her, but then again, she reminded herself, this was Neverland. That boy was probably from another time entirely where it was considered bad manners to shout around a lady.

"I'm sorry that I have not introduced myself, yet," said the boy. "I'm Slightly. May I ask for your names?"

"Well, I'm Peter, and this is Wendy," Peter said.

Slightly looked at Tinkerbelle. "So that's why you brought them here?" he asked. "You brought them here because they have the same names? Do you really think that this is going to work?"

Before Slightly got his answer, Wendy felt the need to cut in. "Excuse me," she said. "But when you say that you're Slightly, do you mean that you are Slightly of the Lost Boys?"

"The very same."

"Then shouldn't you be about six?"

Slightly took a deep breath, as if he did not want to explain at all. "Well, if you must know, about eight years ago, Peter- the real Peter Pan, that is," he looked at Peter who once again did not seem as if he appreciated being some sort of "second" Peter, "said that he was going to find a new storyteller to listen to. None of us thought anything of it. After all, he had left to do that before, but this time, he didn't come back. The rest of the Lost Boys left shortly after, certain the Peter had abandoned us, but I stayed. Trouble is that Neverland was more tied to Peter than we thought. It wasn't long after they left that I came to live here, with the Indians, but I went back to the treehouse, one day. I wanted to get something, you see, and when I went through the entrance that I had used so many times before, I hit my head." He sighed as if this were a painful memory.

There was a long silence before anyone spoke again.

"Slightly," Peter said, "Tinkerbelle wouldn't tell me why she brought us here."

"You can speak to her?"

"Yeah. Anyway, she wouldn't tell me, but you know. What was she looking for when she decided to bring us here?"

"She was looking for Peter," was the answer. Slightly said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We need him to fight Hook."

"But isn't Hook dead?" Wendy asked. "He was eaten by a crocodile."

"Eaten, yes," Slightly said. "But Hook was never dead. It wasn't long after he was swallowed that Hook clawed his way out of the crocodile, but he was a shell of a man from what the mermaids told me. He was barely alive, until he was told that Pan was not coming back."

"So why should that make any difference?"

"It took a while for me to understand it, myself," said Slightly, "but it seems that Neverland's magic resides with the happiest person. After he learned that Pan was gone, that became Hook. He basically controls Neverland. He even flies now."

Something seemed to click in Peter's head. "Wait, that means that this place is now-"

Slightly nodded. "Hook's paradise."


	5. Stories of Pan

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously, this is the fifth the chapter!**

It had been two days since Wendy and Peter's first meeting with Slightly. He had convinced them to stay in order to turn Peter into a convincing Pan to fight Hook.

"Why don't _you_ fight him?" Peter had asked when they first heard the proposition.

"He wouldn't do it," Slightly answered. "I tried to challenge him, but he wouldn't fight me. He said he would only fight Pan. He even let me go because he said that killing me would be a waste of his energy."

"But if he won't fight you, wouldn't it be easier to kill him?" Wendy asked. In her stories, there were plenty of underhanded deaths dealt by those who wanted their enemies out of the way.

"You would think so," said Slightly, "but it's not. He won't fight me, but that doesn't mean he won't defend. And he can fly, remember?"

"What I don't understand is why he wants to fight Pan here to fight in the first place," Peter said. "Neverland's magic resides with the happiest person, right? Well, if Pan came back, it would obviously be him, which means that Hook would lose control. Why does he want to fight?"

"The way I see it," Slightly answered, "is that Hook is disappointed that he isn't the reason Pan is gone. He wants to kill him, because he has the same feeling I do. Pan is still alive and somewhere on Earth. If he were to come back like you said, it would be a disaster. He wants to kill Pan once and for all and eliminate the threat."

"Which means there's a good chance he'll try to kill me if he believes that I'm Pan."

"Try a hundred percent chance."

"Great."

And that was the end of the conversation. Though it would seem like a bad idea to actually go along with Slightly's plan, Peter agreed. He said it "sounded fun." Wendy was quite confused about what her friend's definition of "fun" was, but if that meant she could stay in Neverland for a while, she was fine with it.

Slightly had proved to be a more than capable sword fighting teacher to Peter and, to a lesser extent, Wendy. There were two reasons Wendy was learning alongside Peter: One, Slightly had told them that, while Peter would be fighting Hook if all went well, there were still the other pirates to worry about, and they would need all the help they could get, and two, she wanted to. If nothing else, Wendy figured that she could use the experience to apply to fight scenes in her stories.

Slightly said that they had ideal training conditions because it hadn't snowed since they got there. As it was, Wendy was sitting down, leaning against a tree wand watching Peter train with Slightly. He wasn't doing very well.

"Uh, why don't we take a break?" the Lost Boy suggested. Peter could only nod, as he was out of breath.

"Slightly," Wendy piped up, "I'm confused about something. Pan is supposed to fly, right? What are we going to do about that?"

"We have Tink, don't we?" he answered as if that settled the matter. Immediately, Wendy could see one glaring problem in that answer, but she didn't feel that arguing the point would get her anywhere, so she stayed silent.

"Who cares if I'll be able to fly or not?" Peter mumbled. "I can't face Hook. I suck at sword fighting."

"You're not _that_ bad," Slightly said, obviously just trying to spare Peter's feelings. Peter shot him a look that seemed to ask if the boy really believed that.

"What if you told us more about the Peter Pan you knew, Slightly?" Wendy asked. "Maybe if Peter knew more about him, he would be able to impersonate him better."

Slightly seemed to believe that this was a great idea as he immediately launched into about a thousand tales of adventures he had when Pan was still in Neverland. Many of them had to do with stealing Hook's treasure and hiding it where he couldn't find it.

Wendy sat, enraptured in these stories. It was hard for her, as someone who had lived all her life where these things were impossible, to believe that these stories had actually taken place. And yet, it was not that hard to believe, as she was a writer, and her imagination thrived on things like these.

And then, Slightly came to the story that Wendy had most wanted to hear. It was the true story of Peter and Wendy.

"None of us knew what to think when she first showed up," Slightly admitted. "Tink obviously didn't like her. She tricked us into almost killing her. And Peter wasn't very happy with Tink about that. Of course, we were all happy to have a mother to tell us stories all the time instead of just having to listen to what Peter came back with on his trips.

"But something changed in Peter when Wendy came along with her brothers," he continued, somewhat wistfully. "Not that John and Michael had anything to do with it, of course, but they were there, too. For some reason, Peter seemed happier, if you can believe that. He flew faster and fought better, but it was only when she was there for that short amount of time. I guess she was his happiest thought. I could tell that there was nothing he wouldn't do for her."

Wendy thought about this for the rest of the time Slightly spoke. She knew that Pan had professed to know nothing from love, but it was also obvious that he did know of it from the first Wendy.

It was dark by the time Slightly had finished his story. They all agreed that they would save the rest of the training for tomorrow and head back to the camp where Slightly shared a tent with Peter, and Wendy had her own.

Slightly walked ahead while Peter and Wendy followed.

"What do you think?" Wendy asked. "Do you think that you could be a believable Pan after hearing the stories?"

Peter shook his head. "I know it's crazy," he answered, "but I don't really like him. Everything was just a game to him. Nothing had any real meaning."

"Well, he was a kid," she tried to rationalize. "He had the mentality of a child for who knows how long? Of course everything was just a game to him. But not everything meant nothing to him. He had Wendy."

"Yeah, for a short amount of time," Peter said, as if he didn't think it was fair. "But I think he really loved her, even if he was just a kid. That's why the story is pretty sad. He had this girl, and then she just leaves. I mean, why would anyone want to leave Neverland?"

"That was her choice," Wendy said. "But it is a sad story."

The two said nothing for the rest of the way back to the Indian encampment, as each had their own thoughts to tend to.


	6. The Sharp Solution

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. By the way, if anything in this chapter seems too strange, it's because I'm on painkillers from getting a wisdom tooth extracted.**

It had been days since Slightly had told Peter and Wendy his stories of the Pan he remembered, and Peter's fighting skills hadn't improved much. Wendy was doing fine, but if Peter didn't do better, there was no way that they would fight Hook anytime soon. The stories certainly hadn't helped him, and no one had figured out any way that would improve his progress.

Wendy leaned against a tree as she watched Peter trying to train with Slightly. Tink flew around, trying to stay out of the way while still trying to get a good view. He did not seem to be doing well at all, as during their sparring matches, Slightly seemed to score several touches on Peter while Peter scored none at all."We should just give up," Peter snapped. He threw the sword to the ground. "I won't be good enough to convince anyone that I'm Pan. I couldn't even convince a blind man!"

"Well, maybe it's the sword," Wendy offered, getting up. "Here, take mine." She proffered the sword that was hanging at her waist. Peter took it and tried a few moves with it. He shook his head and handed it back to her.

"No," he said. "I don't think that a different sword would be the help I need."

"Well," Slightly said, as if he just had the most magnificent idea, "maybe not _that_ sword." Peter and Wendy both gave him a questioning look. "Well, there is another sword that, if it works for you, will make you the most convincing Pan. You'll have to follow me."

Neither Peter nor Wendy knew where Slightly was taking them, but they followed him nonetheless.

If the snow had covered the ground like the day they arrived, it would have been impossible to traverse the jungle that Slightly was leading them through. However, the ground was barely covered by half an inch of snow, so they didn't have much of a problem.

It seemed that they had been walking for hours before Slightly finally stopped in front of a giant tree. He pulled on a vine that lifted what seemed to be a door. "Mind your heads," Slightly warned them.

Instantly, Wendy knew where they were. "This is the hideout, isn't it?"

"The one and only," Slightly answered, not without a small bit of pride in his voice. "I don't know how long I lived here. I was one of the first Lost Boys, after all." As he led them inside, Peter and Wendy saw how much damage had been done to it.

"What happened here?" Peter asked, nearly appalled.

"Once Hook came back, he and his pirates decided ransack the place," Slightly answered. "Tink, could I get some light up ahead?" Tinkerbell's bell noises signaled her answer as she flew ahead of Slightly, lighting his path. They seemed to go deeper and deeper into the ground. "Hook's crew thought they took everything of value, but they didn't find the one place that would have been the biggest prize for them."

"And that is…?" Peter asked, hoping for a non-cryptic answer, this time.

"This," was what Slightly answered as he pushed back a curtain that was made to look like it wasn't a curtain at all. Tinkerbell flew in first and lit the room dimly. "This was Pan's room. This is where he kept his things."

Wendy was so fascinated by all the things around her that she had to make sure she wasn't so enraptured by the items that she forgot to look where she was going and trip over something.

Slightly was completely engrossed with looking for something that he seemed to completely ignore Peter and Wendy. That was, of course, until Peter broke the silence by asking, "What are you looking for?"

"Give me a second," Slightly insisted. He finally lifted a bored in the floor that seemed to be loose for a reason. He pulled out a long, thin box. He seemed satisfied with his with his find and opened the box. Inside was a gleaming sword with a golden pommel in the shape of a leaf. "I never dared to take this with me to the Indian camp for fear I would lose it. I knew that Hook's men would never come back, but it was too much of a risk to live here on my own. I just had to hope that it would be safe here."

"It's a really awesome sword," Peter agreed, "but how is it going to help me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Slightly asked, sounding surprised that Peter didn't get it before. "This was Pan's sword. If anything can help you practice and be more like Pan, this will be the thing to do it."

To Wendy, it looked like Peter was completely hypnotized by the sword. She did believe that it was a beautiful sword, but she didn't understand the look on his face. At that moment, she would have given anything to know what he was thinking. She watched him take the sword out of the box and hold it up. He certainly looked a lot more natural holding it than the other swords he's tried before.

No one seemed to talk for a while. They barely even breathed. Even Tinkerbell seemed to refrain from her faerie noises, which was not an easy feat as the sound happened almost every time she moved.

Peter finally spoke. "Yes," he said, more to himself to anyone else, it seemed. "Yes, I think this will work. We should probably try it out, but this just feels… _right_."

Wendy saw Slightly and Tinkerbell share a look that she couldn't possibly decipher at the moment, but she didn't bother asking about it, almost afraid that doing so would ruin the moment.

Just then, Peter ran out and up through the hideout. It was strange, as he hadn't been there before Slightly had shown them in.

It was all that Wendy could do to keep up with Peter, Slightly and Tinkerbell. She got out of the hideout well after the three of them, and she saw that Peter was already sparring with Slightly. This time, however, there was a complete difference with how he fought this time. Slightly almost couldn't keep up with him.

The bout lasted longer than any single one he had done before. He actually scored plenty of touches of on Slightly before he called a time out.

"Wow!" Wendy exclaimed as she applauded his performance. "Peter, how did you _do_ that?"

"I don't know," he answered. "It just came to me. This sword is so much better than the other ones."

"Well," Slightly said, "you definitely seem like you can make more progress with that one. I think that you can face Hook a lot easier with that sword. What do you think, Tink?" In response, the faerie shook her head furiously, sounding like a dozen wind chimes.

The rest of the day consisted of Peter training with both Slightly and Wendy until his two adversaries were too tired to go on. They barely had the energy to walk back to the Indian camp, though Peter now seemed to have boundless energy.


	7. The Fight

**Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own anything.**

**I'm sure that this is the chapter all you guys have been waiting for!**

Wendy couldn't be sure, but it was almost like Peter had completely changed in the past few days that he had the sword. He seemed a lot more positive after he began sparring better. He also seemed to have a lot more stamina, for some reason. After they were done sparring, it was only Slightly who was out of breath.

Wendy had to say that she was feeling much happier as well. She credited it to the fact that the heavy clouds that had blanketed the sky since their arrival had finally started to break up. The sun was finally, albeit gradually, beginning to break through. She had to admit that there definitely was nothing quite like the Neverland sun.

She looked at the two sparring boys. "You're seriously tired?" Peter laughed at Slightly. "I feel like I could do this all day!" As if he was trying to prove a point, he did a few more lunges at the air.

"Right, well, I don't think there's any more I can teach you," Slightly said. "You've definitely gotten better than I am."

"And that means…?"

"It means that you're ready to fight Hook," Slightly said. "And I don't think you'll have any trouble flying, either. It seems that you have enough happy thoughts by the way you've been acting."

Before, Wendy was actually very nervous about that revelation, but now, she couldn't see how they would lose. She was feeling a lot more confident along with Peter. It was almost infectious.

"So when are we going?" Peter asked eagerly. "Tonight?"

"It's dark," Slightly said.

"We'd have the element of surprise."

"But Hook's crew has the numbers," Slightly rebutted. "There are only three of us. We couldn't do as much in the dark. We'll wait until sunrise."

"Fine," Peter agreed, though he seemed disappointed.

Wendy was really starting to wonder about him. His personality seemed to have completely changed since he got the sword. She wondered if there was a way that Pan's spirit was imbued in the sword and possessed him. It wasn't like she was complaining. She rather preferred this positive, headstrong Peter to the mopey, pessimistic one that he was before he had the sword. It was just strange.

The walk back to the Indian camp was different than any other night. Peter seemed extremely excited and unable to contain it.

"What are you so excited about?" Wendy asked. "Hook could kill you if he really believes you're Pan and gets the better of you."

To her surprise, Peter laughed. "Hook can't kill me."

"How are you so sure?"

"We'll, it's because he's…" Peter trailed off, as if he was trying to find the right word to say. "He's a codfish."

This time, it was Wendy's turn to laugh. "A _codfish_? You might be too far in character, Peter. You know you're not actually him, right?"

Peter looked like he did not appreciate that comment at all. "Just trust me, will ya, Wendy?"

Wendy rolled her eyes, and the two did not talk for the rest of the night.

The girl did get to sleep that night, albeit fitfully. She did not dream at all, her mind would just wake her up to worry about the upcoming fight. Before she knew it, the sun was beginning to rise in the distance.

The three of them (plus Tinkerbell) went over the plan. "Just to review," Slightly said, "Peter will fly in and catch Hook's attention. Once they start fighting, we can go in and start fighting the pirates. Don't worry; they're actually not that adept at fighting. They're just the adults who somehow ended up in Neverland. Because they were older, Hook let them aboard the Jolly Roger. Trust me; we are way better than they are."

For some reason, that didn't really help Wendy out much. She knew that Slightly was speaking from experience, but she also knew that the last time he had fought the pirates, he was with the rest of the Lost Boys. There were only going to be the two of them (once again, plus Tinkerbell) this time, seeing as Peter would be preoccupied with Hook.

And before Wendy knew it, they were heading towards the bay in which the Jolly Roger was anchored.

The sun was barely above the horizon when the ship came into view. "Alright, Tink," Peter said. He opened his arms wide. "Hit me!" The pixie took the order and showered Peter with dust. He immediately floated into the air. "Awesome," he laughed. He had practiced flying a few times before, but he never seemed to lose the joy it gave him. "Right," he said. "Let's go!"

Peter took off, racing through the air. Tinkerbell sprinkled Slightly and Wendy with just enough dust to make it to the ship and land while Peter circled above.

"Oh Captain Hook!" he called. That seemed to do the trick. Wendy, Slightly and Tinkerbell were instantly surrounded by the mangy crew of the Jolly Roger, and then, she saw him.

No matter what image Wendy had conjured in her mind before, Hook was ten times more fearful in person. As he exited his quarters, he saw Peter circling above and shouted, "_PAN!_"

Peter flew down towards the ship so as to keep Hook from flying up to meet him. "Did ya miss me, old man?" he asked, laughing as the words escaped his mouth.

Hook's sword flew upwards, but Peter blocked it rapidly. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day," the pirate captain hissed. As if that were the cue they had been waiting for, the crew charged at Wendy and Slightly. What happened next, however, was not expected.

Hook called them off.

"Stop!" he ordered. "Only Pan and I will fight. I have waited too long for this to be muddled up by a clumsy crew. Be gone!"

It surprised Wendy that they actually obeyed. She knew that real pirate crews had mutinied for less.

"You two can stay and watch," Hook said, his voice sounding like he was taking some perverse pleasure from it. Tinkerbell looked indignant about the fact that Hook had paid no attention to her, but Slightly told her to calm down. Hook once again turned to Peter. "Now, boy, shall we finish what we started?"

"The pleasure's all mine, Hook!" Peter laughed.

Although she knew that a lot was at stake and was extremely worried about Peter, part of her was still enjoying the fight. It was almost exactly like the stories she liked to read and write. The moves were fluid and the swords were deadly. If it wasn't for the fact that a friend she had nearly kissed could be killed, it would be rather exciting.

"I knew you came back Pan," Hook said. "I read the signs."

"Signs?" Peter asked, looking genuinely confused.

"Of course, I knew you were in Neverland when the snow stopped falling and the clouds started to depart," Hook said, ignoring the confusion on Peter's face. The two continued fighting.

"Pan's really back," Peter murmured, though it wasn't low enough for Hook to miss.

"What are you talking about, boy?" Hook asked. "Has growing up addled your brains?"

"The real Pan is in Neverland," Peter said, ignoring Hook almost altogether (though he still threw up parries against Hook's barrage of attacks).

Understanding seemed to cross the pirate's face. "You're not the real Pan?" Then, he looked disappointed. Peter's lack of an answer seemed to be answer enough to Hook. "Then this fight is pointless." He raised his sword high, and for a terrifying second, Wendy thought he was going to kill Peter. Instead, he hit him over the head with the pommel of his sword, and Peter dropped to the floor, unconscious.


	8. The Realization

**Disclaimer: Blah, blah, I don't own anything, blah.**

As Peter was unconscious, he dreamed. These dreams seemed almost completely unfamiliar to him at first, and yet they did hold much more familiarity the longer the dream went on.

_Peter was flying through the air. Tinkerbell was at his side. There was literally nothing better than this, except, perhaps, when he was leading the Lost Boys into a fight against the pirates._

_Neverland was always fun. He could fly anywhere he wanted and wasn't afraid of anything._

_But now, it was getting dark, and the Lost Boys would be expecting him at the hideout, so he flew back through the jungle, the warm night air blowing through his hair._

_All the Lost Boys were waiting for him. He was met with the same enthusiasm he always was when he returned to the tree house. As it was, he was always greeted with the same question._

_This time, it was Tootles who asked, "How about a story, Peter?"_

"_Okay, what kind of story?" he asked the boys._

"_Something we haven't heard before," yelled the twins (in unison, of course)._

_This put Peter in a bit of a dilemma. Even after Wendy Darling decided to leave Neverland, he still went back to visit her and hear her stories, even if he did stay out of sight. Of course, he used to go in her room to talk to her, but he stopped after she grew up a lot and had her own children. Mostly, he didn't want to talk to Wendy's children because he knew that they would want to go to Neverland. If they went, they would have to leave, and Peter didn't like that, so he contented to staying out of sight._

_Somehow, though, it seemed that Wendy always knew that he was there._

_Then, one day, he went back, and Wendy wasn't telling stories. In fact, she wasn't there at all. Through the windows, he saw candles lit throughout the house. People were dressed in black, and most were crying. He could see that many were gathered around pictures of Wendy throughout her life._

_Peter immediately understood what had happened. Wendy had grown up as long as she could. Now, she was dead._

_It was strange to him. He knew what death was. After all, he fought pirates all the time, but before this, he never really thought about death as something that could happen to you without the use of swords or guns._

_After that, Earth held no interest for Peter. It would just remind him of Wendy, and he didn't want to go through that again, not after the sadness of Wendy's death left him barely able to fly for weeks._

_This was why he wasn't sure what to say to the boys when they asked for a new story. He knew that it had been a long time since Wendy's death (though he was not sure how long it was, as spending so much uninterrupted time in Neverland always made him forget how time went on Earth). He just didn't want to be reminded of her._

_Still, the Lost Boys looked like they really wanted a new story, and he knew that he didn't _have_ to return to London._

_He couldn't believe himself. He was Peter Pan, after all. He wasn't afraid of anything, so why was he even debating a stupid thing like this. The Lost Boys wanted a new story, didn't they? He should be able to bring them one._

"_Okay, Lost Boys," Peter agreed, clapping his hands together. "I'll find you some new stories."_

_All the boys cheered as Peter left the hideout after having only been inside for a few minutes._

_He took off into the night sky towards Earth. This time, however, he didn't head toward London as he so often did. This time, he went farther west, to a place he did not know._

_It took him a while, and he searched through many towns. This place was so different from London. However, he was still able to find what he was looking for after a while._

_There was a small bedroom with two girls inside. One seemed to be laying on some kind of sack while the other stood in front of her, expressively acting out a story that Peter was sure he had never heard before. That was strange, because it was about pirates, and Peter was sure that he had heard every type of story about pirates there was._

"_And as Redbeard was locked in combat with his mortal enemy, his fist mate snuck up behind him, drew his sword, and ran his captain through. Redbeard fell to the ground, and the dread pirate was no more."_

_The girl lying on the sack sat up and applauded the girl. "Wow, did you make that one up?"_

_The girl who had acted out the story gave a small bow and nodded. "Yup!" she answered happily._

_The two girls looked like they were going to talk more, but at that moment, a woman appeared at the door. "Wendy, I called you and Katy down for dinner ten minutes ago. What have you been doing?"_

_The name "Wendy" struck Peter. He had no idea which of the girls she was, as neither of them looked like the Wendy he knew. Still, he had an idea._

"_Sorry, Mom," apologized the girl who had been telling the story. "I just wanted to finish a story."_

_At this, Peter saw the woman's face soften. "Okay," she said, "but come down, now. Your dinner is getting cold."_

_Both girls got up and moved toward to leave the room. "Thanks for letting me sleep over, Mrs. Jackson," said the girl who had been listening to the story._

"_It's my pleasure, Katy," the woman said. "I know how much you love Wendy's stories."_

_The girls and the woman (who was no doubt Wendy's mother) left the room, and Peter had his answer. Wendy was the girl who had been telling the story. He knew that it was a coincidence that her name was Wendy and she was a storyteller, but it was still a thought that exploded happily into his mind._

_Peter waited outside the window until the two girls came back. He then listened to the stories Wendy told until the girls went to sleep. He then flew back to Neverland to share the good news and new stories with the Lost Boys._

_The boys were excited to have new stories to listen to, and Peter made a regular trip to Wendy's window to hear more stories. Most of the time, this Wendy was alone in her room, as she did not seem to have any siblings like the first Wendy did. However, she did like to write down her stories, and when she wrote them down, she spoke them out loud._

_Peter quite enjoyed listening to her stories. It was like when Wendy Darling was a child. He even considered taking her to Neverland, nearly forgetting the first Wendy's decision to leave in the end._

_Then, during one of his trips to Wendy's window, a huge storm picked up. He had never flown in such a bad storm before, and he was soon at the mercy of the wind. It pitched him and rolled him. He soon saw that he was headed directly towards a large brick wall. Before he could regain control, he flew head-first into the wall. He fell to the ground, and everything went black._

Peter woke up with a start to find that he was lying on a bed in a tent while Wendy leaned over him, dabbing his forehead with a wet rag.

"Good," she said, smiling.

"Where's Slightly?" he asked with an edge to his voice.

"He's in his tent," she answered. "Why?" Instead of giving her an answer, Peter stood up and headed out of the tent. "Peter, I really don't think you should be walking around just yet. You were knocked out for a long time." Peter, however, paid her no mind and kept walking. Wendy could think of nothing to do but follow him.

She followed him right to Slightly's tent where he burst right in without announcing himself. There, they found Slightly talking to Tinkerbell.

"You knew!" Peter yelled with no preamble whatsoever. "You both knew, and you didn't tell me."

Slightly's expression went from confused, to understanding, and finally to guilty. "Yes, we knew," Slightly admitted. "Tinkerbell knew, actually. She had been following you a while. After you went to sleep that first night, she told me that you didn't remember. She said it would be a good idea for you to remember on your own."

At that, Peter gave a derisive laugh. "Yeah, well you can see how well that turned out."

Finally, Wendy reached her peak annoyance at the fact that everyone was being so cryptic. "Can someone _please_ tell me what's going on here?'

It looked like the three other people in the tent had just noticed that Wendy was there.

"You're never going to believe me," Peter said, "but I'm the real Pan. I was flying to Earth when I got caught up in a storm and hit my head on a wall. That's why I can't remember anything before eight years ago."

Wendy lifted an eyebrow and tried to determine whether or not he was joking. When she realized that he wasn't, she nearly fell over. "Oh, oh my god," were the only words she was able to get out.

"That's why Tink and I wanted him to fight Hook," Slightly said. "He's the only one who can."

"But that didn't work out, did it?" she asked.

"It was a mistake on my part to think that Peter could take on Hook without remembering his past," Slightly admitted. "Because Peter didn't know who he was, he wasn't believable as himself, and Hook wouldn't fight him. Because he remembers now, he can fight and get rid of Hook for good."

"You really think that will work?" Wendy asked skeptically.

"I've defeated Hook loads of times," Peter said. "Why should this time be any different?"

"We're going to hold off for a while, though," Slightly said. "We need the element of surprise."

"Of course we do," Wendy said, sighing.


End file.
